More Than Charming

by JoMarie DeGioia

  She’d come to Leed Manor a few days earlier, preceding the guests Paul and Michelle had invited. She knew Lord Roberts would be included in the party, for Paul was very fond of him. Happily, Chester and Constance had responded and would attend. With Geoffrey and Becca sure to come, it promised to be a very pleasant time indeed.

  Would Lord Roberts attend? Or had her shameful behavior destroyed the friendship they’d shared for so many years? She recalled his demeanor when last she saw him at Paul’s townhouse. His eyes had held a coldness she hadn’t seen before, and his voice possessed a clipped quality that pierced her heart. She sighed again and took herself back into the house.

  * * *

  At teatime the family and guests sat in the great hall, a cavernous space made to seem less so by the strategic placement of furniture and decorations. A huge fireplace dominated the space designated as the parlor, and Catherine sat across from it on a rose-colored settee. Though the room was full of warmth and animated conversation, James kept his place at the entry.

  He watched as Catherine took a bite of a lemon tart. She apparently didn’t notice that a biscuit had fallen onto the hem of her pale green tea gown. But Geoffrey and Becca’s son Michael spied it and ran up to her, grabbing the biscuit and popping it into his mouth. He laughed at his victory and spit crumbs all over the front of his new suit—much to his father’s delight and his mother’s consternation. James smiled at his antics. The little boy was almost three years old and full of laughter and mischief. He possessed his mother’s big green eyes, and knew precisely how to use them to his advantage. Geoffrey’s niece, Ann, who had just turned six, sat quietly beside Rebecca.

  James guessed that the pretty blonde-haired girl was shy around the guests as she sat quite closely to Becca, holding fast to her hand. Ann was Patricia’s child with Geoffrey’s late brother John. After the terrible ordeal with John several years ago, Geoffrey and Becca insisted that Patricia leave the child with them. The woman held little affection for her own daughter, having always been more concerned with her own frivolities. Her name was never mentioned in company. Without Geoffrey and Becca’s love and guidance, James was certain that Ann would have been a little girl lost.

  Paul and Michelle’s daughter, Rose, eyed Michael closely as she toddled about the space, a much-loved rag doll clutched in her arms. She made her way toward Catherine and held her arms high in the air. “Up!”

  Catherine set her teacup aside and lifted the little girl onto her lap. Rose immediately began to play with Catherine’s skirts, twisting them in her chubby little hands. Her gown was soon pulled up to mid-calf, giving James a delightful glimpse of shapely legs and ankles. He lifted his eyes to her face and found her regarding him closely. He started to smile, at which she lowered her eyes. She was still hurt, then.

  He turned and joined his friends where they stood by the mantle.

  “Roberts,” Paul said in greeting. “We wondered if you would show yourself.”

  James held up his hands in a show of defeat. “I couldn’t stay away.”

  “It does promise to be most enjoyable,” Chester put in. “It’s all Constance has been talking about.”

  “And Rebecca,” Geoffrey said. “Although I daresay after a week or so of my son’s running about, we may find the manor in crumbled ruins around us.”

  James chuckled. “Where is the little mite?”

  Geoffrey flicked his head in Catherine’s direction. James’s eyes followed, widening as they found her once more. He watched as the little boy sat himself down at her feet and wrapped his arms around one of her bared legs.

  “It seems he’s jealous of little Rose’s monopolizing Catherine’s attention.” Geoffrey chuckled.

  “I don’t blame him,” James found himself saying. He flushed hotly. “It’s obvious she’s wonderful with the children.”

  Geoffrey nodded and turned back to the other gentlemen. James, however, couldn’t drag his eyes from Catherine.

  Becca stood then, announcing the child’s naptime.

  “Oh,” Michelle added. “I should put Rose down, as well.”

  “Let me do it?” Catherine offered, standing up with the little girl perched on her hip.

  Michelle smiled gratefully and nodded her assent. Not to be left out, Michael grabbed on to Catherine’s skirt. James watched her as she smiled down at the little boy.

  “You may come, too, Michael,” she soothed, taking the child’s hand. “Ann, I could use your help.”

  Ann hopped off the settee, taking measured steps toward Catherine. With a shy smile on her fair little face, she stepped close to Catherine and matched her steps with hers.

  James caught Catherine’s eye as she passed him. She nodded to him stiffly and walked quickly toward the stairs, bound for the nursery. He bit back a groan. He had a feeling he was in for a challenging time.

  * * *

  The next morning, all in attendance at the manor fell into the routine of a long country visit. The gentlemen left early to go hunting, leaving the ladies to sit and chat as they sipped tea or worked on their needlepoint. Talk soon turned to the past Season, and specifically, the Markham’s ball. Catherine felt her cheeks burning as Lady Brookdale’s name was mentioned.

  “To think she uttered such hateful comments about Catherine,” Elizabeth said.

  Catherine feigned intense interest in her needlework.

  “Hush, Elizabeth,” Michelle said.

  Elizabeth giggled. “I could scarcely believe it when you put that awful woman in her place.”

  Catherine picked her head up. “Michelle did what?”

  Michelle flashed a look of irritation at Elizabeth, at which the girl looked down at her lap.

  “It wasn’t anything at all,” Michelle told Catherine.

  Catherine saw the looks being exchanged among the women present and knew that Michelle was making light of it. “What precisely did you do, Michelle?”

  Michelle set her needlework aside. “I merely told Lady Brookdale that she was mistaken in her appraisal of you.”

  “Hardly!” Elizabeth cut in. “You told her she had no virtue.”

  “What?” Catherine came to her feet.

  “No, not you.” Elizabeth giggled again. “Lady Brookdale.”

  Catherine closed her eyes. How could she bring her sister-in-law into such an ugly business? She sat back down and said no more, letting the conversation lead itself away from the topic and toward more mundane subjects.

  Long after dinner, which the ladies took without the men present, Catherine went up to her guestroom. The gentlemen had taken their midday meal in the field as expected, and Catherine was glad to pass the day without Lord Roberts’s handsome visage intruding upon her. Not that she didn’t see him constantly in her mind, as dashing as he’d been the previous evening. She caught his gaze but once, and it was enough to set her pulse racing.

  Thinking to put both him and the unpleasant conversation of the morning out of her mind, she ordered a bath and stripped out of her day dress.

  * * *

  James spent the morning and early afternoon in pursuit of partridge, as its season opened September first. The true pleasure of the outing was, of course, camaraderie. The Earl of Talbot was quite pleased to hunt with the younger men in attendance, expressing to James his regret that his father couldn’t join them. James sorely wished his father was as hale and hearty as Paul’s.

  Despite the exhilarating pastime, James found his mind occupied with images of Catherine: as she sat in the parlor with her lovely legs in plain view; as she appeared at dinner looking incredible in her elegant gown. The one and only time he’d managed to meet her violet gaze during the previous evening, the passion clear in her eyes had shaken him. He tried to put her out of his mind as he and the other gentlemen returned to the manor.

  Chapter 5

  Catherine stepped out of her bath and picked up a fluffy towel to dry herself, inadvertently tipping over the pitcher of clean rinsing water. Thankfully, there wasn’t
much left to spread across the floor. She quickly donned her chemise and petticoat and proceeded to rub the towel over her hair. After a few moments, she set the towel aside and ran her fingers through her dark curls, spreading them to dry more quickly. The spilled water forgotten, she studied her reflection in the mirror atop the washstand.

  Her cheeks were rosy from the steamy bath water and her hair was curled about her face. Did Lord Roberts find her pretty? The look he’d given her last evening told her that it might be so. But then again, she’d thought Waltham quite taken with her and he obviously hadn’t been since he ended up marrying another woman. Tired of the endless circles in which her mind was running, she turned and hurried across the room to finish getting dressed.

  She stepped into the spilled water and lost her footing. Letting out a yelp of surprise, she crashed to the floor.

  Suddenly, Lord Roberts opened her door and rushed inside. “Catherine?” he called. “Catherine! Are you all right?”

  He helped her to her feet and Catherine laughed shakily, clinging to him. She quickly recovered her footing and held herself away from him, heat creeping up her cheeks. “Thank you, yes. I spilled some water, is all.”

  She finally looked at him. He was magnificent in his hunting clothes, masculine and virile. And mmm, he smelled of the outdoors.

  He ran his gaze over her and she flushed hotter. No doubt she looked like a hoyden, her hair a tangle, her chemise soaking wet.

  His eyes settled on her face, intensity in their glare. “Catherine,” he whispered.

  She gasped at the heat in his gaze. “Lord Roberts, I . . .”

  “Catherine,” he said again, his voice lowered to a husky rasp.

  He pulled her to him, sealing his mouth to hers. Catherine opened her mouth for him, timidly rubbing her tongue against his. He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, slanting his mouth over hers again and again.

  She reached up, her fingers running through his hair, and pressed herself against him. How wonderful his hard body felt against her soft one! His hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her waist, cupping her bottom. She gasped as she felt the hardness of his arousal pressed against her belly, feelings she couldn’t name pulsing through her. He started to lift her petticoat, his fingertips stroking the backs of her knees, her thighs, as he reached higher toward her—

  “What’s going on here!?” Paul roared from the doorway.

  Lord Roberts froze. He lifted his head and glanced over at her brother. Catherine followed his gaze. Oh, the look in Paul’s eyes was chilling.

  “Leed,” Lord Roberts said hoarsely.

  Catherine’s arms were still up around his neck, her head resting against his chest. She sighed, taking much longer to recover than he apparently had. Lord Roberts stroked her back as if pleased to have her draped all over him. Oh, his hands felt wonderful on her, warm and strong.

  “I want an answer,” Paul growled.

  Lord Roberts dropped his hands to his sides and faced her brother once more. “Leed, I . . . That is . . .”

  “Downstairs in my study, Roberts. Now.”

  Catherine recovered herself and hid behind Lord Roberts. Paul scowled at her and turned on his heel, knowing full well Lord Roberts would soon follow. She watched as her brother stomped from the room.

  “Ah, hell,” Lord Roberts muttered. He turned to her. “Catherine, I’m so sorry . . . We’ll talk later.”

  She gazed up at him, her lips parted. He managed a smile, gave her a quick kiss, and hurried to catch up with her brother.

  * * *

  James found Paul pacing in his study, obviously still quite furious. He squared his shoulders and stepped inside, pulling the door closed.

  Paul turned and fixed piercing blue eyes on him. “What were you thinking, compromising my sister?”

  “Leed, It’s not what you think—”

  “This is not the first time you’ve compromised a lady. If you recall, your infatuation with Becca almost got you called out by Kane! Has it been so long since you’ve had female companionship, Roberts, that you thought to ruin an innocent girl?”

  James’s hands were fists at his side, anger causing him to shake. “This has nothing to do with what happened with Becca. It’s completely different. And I haven’t ruined your sister. We were merely, um . . .”

  Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “Pray tell me, Roberts. I know full well what you appeared to be doing.”

  James laughed, the situation suddenly ridiculous to him. “Leed, you don’t believe I would ever take advantage of Catherine, do you?”

  Paul scowled at him. “Don’t attempt to charm your way out of this. If I hadn’t come upon you when I did, you surely would have—”

  “No!” James cut in. “I would never treat Catherine in so deplorable a manner. She deserves much better.”

  Paul got a gleam in his eye then. James pulled back, a warning bell trilling through his mind.

  “Prove it,” Paul dared.

  James blinked. “But how do you propose that I—?”

  “Marry her.”

  James balked. Marry her! “You can’t be serious. Simply because I was—”

  “Found in a compromising situation with my innocent sister?”

  James narrowed his gaze. “I won’t be forced into a marriage, Leed.”

  Paul’s frown cleared. “Catherine has had enough pain this past year, Roberts. I won’t see her hurt again by an experienced rogue like yourself.”

  “I would never hurt Catherine. I’m very fond of her.”

  Paul arched a brow at him. “Yes. That is quite evident.”

  James grunted in frustration. “That’s not what I mean.”

  Paul crossed to the door and pulled it open. “Think about what I said, Roberts.”

  He was dismissed, then? Fine. Without another word, James left the study.

  * * *

  Catherine dressed quickly, thinking to take herself downstairs to tea before Paul returned. She had no doubt that he would, knowing her brother as she did. To think that he’d discovered her in such a situation! It was disgraceful. And what of Lord Roberts? Paul had looked ready to throttle him.

  She refused to think of how absolutely wonderful Lord Roberts’s kisses and caresses had made her feel. She hastily finished dressing and pulled open the chamber door. A tall figure filled the doorway.

  “Paul!” she exclaimed, her hand frozen on the knob.

  Her brother stepped into the room. “Close the door, Catherine.”

  She did so and turned slowly to face him. His scowl was ferocious. She held her hands in front of herself in a placating manner. “Paul, I realize you’re angry, and—”

  “What were you thinking, being alone with a man in your room?”

  “I didn’t . . .” she began. “That is to say, it was an accident.”

  Paul snorted. “An accident? Pray tell me, sister, how such an ‘accident’ occurred.”

  “Very well,” she said, wringing her hands. “I slipped in a bit of water on the floor and fell. Apparently, Lord Roberts heard me cry out and came in to help and—”

  “Enough,” Paul said, holding up his hand. “How many times, Catherine?”

  Catherine blinked up at him. “How many times?” she murmured. “What do you—?”

  “How many times have you been alone with him?”

  Catherine gasped at what he was intimating. “Paul, I’ve never! . . . Well, there was that one time at his townhouse, but that was—”

  “What!?” he roared.

  “It wasn’t as you presume,” she rushed out. “I merely went there to give him my thanks when he defended me to Waltham—”

  Paul groaned and raked his fingers through his hair. “You need to think about this, Catherine. Your carelessness could have caused this family a huge scandal had someone other than I discovered your indiscretion.”

  Her mouth gaped open at his low opinion of her. “Paul, you don’t think that I would ever do anything to disgrace myself or
our family . . . Do you?” she said in a hurt voice.

  He pulled open her chamber door and cast a measuring glance over her. “I only know what I saw, sister.” He closed the door and left her there.

  Shame washed over her. What had she been thinking, throwing herself at Lord Roberts? And now her own brother believed her a loose woman! She collapsed on the bed and cried, burying her face in the pillow lest one of the other guests hear her.

  * * *

  James paced the floor of his guestroom, his mind working. What Leed had presumed enraged him. He’d never do anything to hurt Catherine! But marry her?

  He’d foolishly thought to take Becca from Geoffrey all those years ago, when his fevered young mind had seen her as the only woman for him. What a bloody fool he’d been. He sent up another silent prayer for his coming to his senses and regaining the friendship of both Geoffrey and his wife and forced his mind back to the present.

  Ah, Catherine. The way she’d sweetly responded to his kisses and caresses was still fresh in his mind. She’d been all but naked in her wet chemise, her pebbled nipples visible through the lawn. And when he’d brushed his fingers over the smooth skin at the back of her thighs . . . The stark desire she’d aroused in him was unlike anything he’d ever felt for any woman. Although he’d denied it to her brother, James was honest enough to admit to himself that he might indeed have thrown caution to the wind and taken her there in her guest chamber, making her his in every way. “God bless Leed.”

  Suddenly, a grin spread across his face. Of course! It was all so clear to him now. Why not marry her? Catherine was sweet and beautiful and intelligent. They’d known each other for so very long, and got along quite famously. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman.

  Yes. He would marry her.

  But would she have him?

  “She damned well better have me.”

  He walked into the small sitting room adjoining his bedchamber. Taking a sheet of paper from the writing desk, he set about penning a note to his intended.